Look Who's Talking
by The-Great-Catsby
Summary: So Dave chooses the stupid idea, the stupid plan. Because in all fairness- all the times he's been slammed up against the glass at hockey matches haven't done much for his brain cell count. Slight angst. Karofsky/Kurt


Kurt Hummel was good at a lot of things. Doing his hair, coordinating outfits, hitting the high notes in Christina Aguilera songs, and figuring out why his check engine light is on. But no where on that list has math ever appeared, especially not geometry.

Kurt's brain was filtering Mr. Ryan's voice through his head, letting his babble leak out of his ears. His mind was a bit more than occupied now with visions of Lady Gaga, glee club, his wonderful boyfriend Blaine, and why Santana was glaring at him. (Of course, he might be more worried if she _wasn't _leering)

Kurt rolled his back and stretched his legs out under his desk to keep from the atrophy that came with extreme boredom and restlessness of Academic Geometry period 6. He snatched up his pencil and began to scribble numbers on his paper as Mr. Ryan and all his 250 pounds came through the rows of desks to check papers.

Not only was Mr. Ryan grossly obese, but also an inbred hick who didn't know his elbow from Sheryl Crow, and an affinity for harassing students for the smallest thing. Milla, you didn't do your homework- eight days suspension! Ashley, you need a pencil- I guess you can't take this final. Kayla- You need to go to bathroom- piss yourself for all I care.

That was Mr. Ryan in his chubby, evil little nutshell.

Kurt sighed a bit and rested his warm cheek against his hand as he tried to figure out the equation. _Why do I need this?_ He internally groaned to himself as Mr. Ryan rounded another row of neatly adjacent desks.

"Need any help, Hummel?"

His voice was booming, but no one paid it any more attention after a half year of trying to plug their ears with stubby fingers to block out his voice. "Uh, yeah- actually. Why is this negative? Isn't that the negation for the hypothesis-" Kurt pointed to a question he had been fiddling with as he rattled on about stuff he had no idea about for another minute. It was a good idea, if you ask questions (granted they are ones the teacher hasn't already answered) then teachers appreciated the fact you were actually taking an interest in whatever they are teaching. Even if you really don't.

Kurt made a big deal after they worked through the problem about how he finally got it and would be lost without him- a total lie. He was just silently praying that the corpulent whale of a teacher would flop away to some other unwitting victim and then Kurt would be permitted to continue his fantasizing about solos in glee and making out his his boyfriend on the hood of his car.

The bell signifying the last period of the day couldn't come soon enough, and he was out the door and halfway down the hall before the bell had even stopped ringing.

-X-

"Mr. Hummel, take a seat in my office- you can take your test there." Mr. Ryan pointed to the door, almost as saying "Get the fuck out." Kurt heaved out a groan as he trounced away into the hall and into the neighboring room. The hallway completely devoid of stragglers, all in their classes not paying any attention. It was painted red and the carpet was darker here then in any other class. Ryan's computer gave off a white glow over his desk and the couches that were here in place of chairs looked much more inviting than the the desk-chairs in any class. There was a table positioned between the sofas, perfect for making up a Government test that Kurt could not afford to fail.

His fourth period government class was right next door so when Miss. Harper made him leave to take his test while the rest of the class went over the answers he was went over to Ryan's room. Of course the hulking beast of a teacher was standing at the door, almost as if was waiting for Kurt and directed him to his little office not more than three feet away.

Kurt examined the seats with a good deal of scrutiny, and after deciding that both were equally comfy he plopped himself down on the one facing away from the door. He pulled out his I-pod, popped an ear bud in and began to shuffle through play lists to get to the song he wanted to hear. His thin finger tapped on the desk as he began to very quietly sing along with the words as he started to idly bubble in his test scantron while looking the answers up in his book.

_"Lord make me a rainbow, I'll shine down on my mother_  
_ She'll know I'm safe with you when she stands under my colors, oh and_  
_ Life ain't always what you think it ought to be, no _  
_ ain't even gray, but she buries her baby_

_ The sharp knife of a short life, well _  
_ I've had just enough time"_

-X-

Karofsky hated his fourth period class. Granted he hated the whole school day, he hated pretty much everybody save for a few people, and not to get all psychoanalytical- he hated himself. A pretty textbook case of 'High-school Closeted Gay Jock' syndrome.

"Dave, I swear if you throw something else at me I'm going to rip your balls off." Santana Lopez growled at the hulking teenager from a few desks away. Brittany just snorted and coughed as some of apple juice from her juicebox dribbled out of her nose.

She wiped her face with the sleeve of the Letterman jacket of the boy she's currently banging. "My dog had his balls ripped off. That's why we had to change his name from Alex to Alexa. " She mused out loud, but not garnering much attention from anyone seated around her. Most people had already assumed she was perpetually stoned or just _that_ dumb and had stopped listening.

"Make me, skank." He snorted as he tossed another crumpled up math worksheet at her and it bounced off her forehead. Her dark eyes narrowed and her hand shot up in the air.

"Mr. Ryan, Karofsky is throwing shit at me again." The girl whined loud enough for the teacher to hear from across the dimly lit math room. Ryan heaved a groan and put the papers he was carrying down a bit harshly than necessary.

Without turning around to look at the right side of the room he pointed at the door. " Karofsky get outta' my class. How many times do I have to tell you to keep your fat little hands to yo' self before you learn?"

"What the hell?" He yelled, his large hands slamming against his desk. "This bitch started it." He shot an accusing finger in Santana's general direction.

"I so did not!" She barked.

The old teacher brought a dark wrinkled hand to his temple, indicating an oncoming headache. "Out- Karofsky." Ryan gestured toward the door and continued what he was doing.

"Fuck this." Dave cursed as he pushed his binder off his desk and stormed out of the room, his feet heavy as he walked along the tile.

He could hear Ryan yelling at him to go to the office as he left, but Dave hadn't made up his mind whether he didn't just want to go home today. He had felt sick ever since he had woken up, and he was so tired that he almost crashed his blue Toyota pick-up into a stop-sign on his way to school this morning.

Dave Karofsky was having a shit day.

He had slammed the door to the classroom shut as he stormed out, and after waiting a few minutes to see if anyone was coming out there to yell at him he decided that he needed to just breathe for a few minutes before going to the office to be yelled at some more .

He slumped down against the white walls of the school and sat on the tiled floor, not really caring if he was sitting in all the grime that janitors never are able to get completely clean.

He sat there for a few minutes completely by himself.

He thought about all the shit things going on his life. His mom working so late that he had to constantly pick up his little sister from school, his dad's been trying to make amends (for what's about to be the 34th time) and how bad he's been doing at pretty much everything since that fateful Thursday two weeks ago were he had totally fucked everything up.

It was 10:46 when he heard it.

It came from Ryan's work-room, and although it was faint he could hear it so loud in his head it was almost like an hall-way was completely silent and the Hockey player decided to scoot closer to the door to listen.

_"Lord make me a rainbow, I'll shine down on my mother_  
_ She'll know I'm safe with you when she stands under my colors, oh and_  
_ Life ain't always what you think it ought to be, no _  
_ ain't even gray, but she buries her baby_

_ The sharp knife of a short life, well _  
_ I've had just enough time"_

He recognized that voice_._

Fuck, he recognized that voice!

Kurt Hummel, Kurt "Lady-Boy" Hummel, Kurt "The Homo" Hummel.

Kurt Fucking Hummel.

Dave was at a bit of a loss of what to do. The smart idea would be to go to the office, pretend like he was never here. But then again- Dave isn't that smart.

So Dave chooses the stupid idea, the stupid plan. Because in all fairness, all the times he's been slammed up against the glass at hockey matches haven't done much for his brain cells.

Karofsky waits another minute (he doesn't want Hummel to know he was listening to him sing- because that would make the hockey player a bit more faggy than he's willing to admit right now) then he goes to the door of the work-room and pushes the cracked-door open.

"What do we have here?" He regret's it before he's even doing talking. His voice sounds too dark- too menacing. The anger, fear, slight confusion that shows on Hummel's face as he twists in his seat doesn't lessen how out of his element Karofsky feels at the moment.

Or maybe he is perfectly in his element now? Here's a scared fag, and Dave can kick his ass here and no one would hear him.

Yet that's not what he want's to do (not what he's ever wanted to do) and that bothers him even more.

"What do you want?" Kurt asked, his voice sharp and acrimonious. But Dave can't help but think it still sounds nice and pleasant. It's almost like getting mauled by a puppy. Sure- it hurts, but it doesn't matter because it's a puppy and puppies can't _really _hurt you. If anything it's cute- a puppy trying to seem bigger than it really is.

Karofsky scoffed as he sat opposite of Kurt. "I might've though twice about fucking around in Ryan's class if I knew I'd have to come in here and chance catching fag before the big game."

"I don't think you have to worry about that."

Dave gave a snort. "Why's that?"

Kurt made a grab for his bag. "Because I'm leaving." The couch on Hummel's side was pushed too close to the table so he had to practically climb over the armrest- giving Karofsky a chance to watch his body twist and move like a dancer as he got up.

Suddenly- "You catch AIDS from your boyfriend, yet?" Dave doesn't really know why he says this. Probably just to get conformation that yes- that perfect, smart, rich private-school kid that Kurt was always hanging out with in the parking lot was truly the one that Kurt wanted. That he was really _his type_.

Kurt's eyes caught the floor, and gave a little whine of annoyance. "I'm wondering why you care so much whether I'm dating him or not."

He was standing now, Kurt, with his arms crossed across his chest. He was wearing what Hummel might call casual- skinny jeans, gray scarf, black cardigan sweater, nice shoes.

"I don't." Karofsky asserts a bit more aggressively than a straight person would need too. But both of them know that Dave Karofsky isn't 100% hetero either.

"I think you do." Kurt contests. He flops his bag down on the floor. "Why can't you admit it? No one's here."

Dave wonders if that makes a difference. He's not afraid of anyone else. Fag or not, he could still kick anyone's ass. He wonders if it's his christian mother who would cry for weeks if she found out. But she's never done anything for Dave, and eventually she'd get over it. Was it his little sister he was trying to protect? Sure, Karofsky can protect himself, but he can't always be around to protect her.

He wonders what kind of taunts elementary school kids can come up with about the little sister of a queer. Would she care? probably not, she loves her brother.

Dave thinks about his dad and whether or not he would care, but dismisses it fairly quick. He wouldn't talk to his son ever again. But that would be a good thing...Dave hated his dad.

Kurt continues. "No one is asking you to go to a pride parade and no one is asking you to listen to Cher C.D's, so stop being such a fucking idiot_. _"

Dave didn't think he had ever heard Hummel curse. All the times he had given him swirlies, slammed him into rows of lockers...not once.

"You don't know what you're talking about, Hummel." Dave warned, and then it felt way to much like that Thursday two weeks ago in the locker room. He could hear his voice screaming at him. _Don't test me...is that right...sneak in here..._

"Do you? You constantly bitch and moan 'Oh no, gays everywhere- fags, bleggh, ughh- trying to turn me gay!' " Kurt mocked, his voice going into a ridiculously low fake baritone as he mimed Karofsky. Dave felt the urge to smile, Kurt was pretty funny. But then he remembered what he was saying and his face didn't move an inch. Kurt continued on "-but I didn't turn you gay, and all those Cheerios you slept with didn't turn you gay, you never _turned _gay! I hate to break it to you, meat head, but you just _are_ gay!"

"I'm not, really..." A bit quieter now. " I'm not."

"Of course you aren't-" Kurt seethed out, condescension and all. "-but you like me, a whole lot more than your tiny brain is willing to admit."

"But I'm not gay." Dave finished lamely. _You didn't deny liking him, dumbass._

"And yet, you don't find any of the Cheerios that attractive anymore, and you wonder why_._" Kurt's not done yet, and his blue eyes take on a malicious blue hue. "And instead of going to the office, you pretend like Ryan sent you here for detention_- Just because._"

Dave feels nervous, almost as if Kurt's about to find out about everything. Like there's anymore he could accidentally let slip.

"How did you-?" Kurt cuts him off.

"Other then having an IQ of 48, you're also a bad liar-" Nonchalantly, he shrugs. "and Ryan's voice carries." For some reason Dave imagines that Kurt finishes with something like, _but I wanted to see you again. _He doesn't.

Dave realizes then, that maybe he does like Kurt. And that all of this, him with someone else and hating him for taking his first kiss, hurt a lot more than he wanted Hummel to know.

"I'm sorry." Dave feels like that's' a good first step.

"For what, torturing me? Trying to beat up Blaine? Kissing me?"

Karofsky blushes slightly, but the rooms dim and Hummel wont notice. "I guess, the first two?" It's his was of saying that if Hummel would let him, he would kiss him again and again. _And again, and again, and again..._

Kurt sighs and closes the distance between them until he's hovering over the seated Dave. He says quietly_- _"You're not in love with me, you're just confused." Is he asking, or telling? "Okay?" Sounds like hes asking.

Karofsky is quiet, and then Kurt speaks. To Dave it sounds almost heavenly, yet so evil and sinful and disgusting and filthy as a voice can get.

His big doe eyes are sympathetic "Look- You don't want to end up forty-five with a wife you never wanted to be with, three kids you never wanted, and a life that you would trade for _anything_." He shakes his head and looks away. "Just remember that next time you decide to use me for hockey-practice, alright Bruce Banner?"

Dave doesn't answer and then Kurt's gone. He's left him with his thoughts. He's left him to suffocate with his own fears. He's left him to drown in his own lack of self confidence. He can't even accept himself, if the only other gay kid in all of Lima doesn't

He wonders why he was ever so cruel to Hummel. He just realized they were perfect for each other if it wasn't for that. Opposites attract, and all that.

Plus, he just made a Hulk reference- and true love doesn't get _much_ better than that.

* * *

A/N: I'd like to start off and say- I know that this pairing is like the dirty cousin of Glee fandoms right now. A lot of people think its really bad with all of Karofskys' bullying, other think it's a bit romantic. I'm a true romantic, so I find this plot line heartbreaking for Dave, and pretty messed up for Kurt. I'm not saying that Kurt should forget all the times he's been bullied. But he should also try to understand that Karofsky is a product of our society and middle-American christian values. He's a victim too. Just my opinion though.

After reading the forum I got the feeling that this was a touchy subject for a lot of people, so I wanted to make sure that everyone knows that I don't condone bullying for whatever reason. I've been bullied, so have friends- everyone has.

Also, I MAY make this a two-shot. But that is less likely. I want the reader to interpret this with one of two endings.

**One**, Kurt's happy with Blaine why would he ever go to the guy who made his life hell?

Or** two**, Karofsky becomes a better person, and who knows- maybe they are a match made in heaven. Dave sure thinks so.

It's up to you to decide, I guess.

Well, I tried hard to spell-check this as best I could but my eyes are acting up and it's getting a bit difficult. So sorry if you notice a few slips of the pen. Also, **_PLEASE REVIEW_**. It's the best gift I could get right now.

Oh, btw- the song Kurt was singing is "If I die young" by The Band Perry. It's country, and although that's not my favorite, It's so beautiful. The video is it's own little piece of artwork.


End file.
